


Daytime Violence Reprise

by j_alfie



Category: Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice, Justice League & Justice League Unlimited (Cartoons), Justice League Beyond (Comics)
Genre: Daddy Issues, Episode: s02e11-12 A Better World, Justice Lords, Lord Batman is dead, M/M, Multiverse, Post-Episode: s02e11-12 A Better World, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-07
Updated: 2016-07-07
Packaged: 2018-07-22 02:40:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7416364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/j_alfie/pseuds/j_alfie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The battle of Doomsday opened a portal to Earth-50 that brought Lord Superman here. He found the one thing he'd wanted, and decided Lex was going to help him get it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is messy but I just can't stop thinking that Lord Superman is what Lex truly wants for himself. People need to see the fraud LEX is.  
> I apologize for any malapropism in advance for English is not my first language.

Lex looked at this creature and the torn up prison wall behind him and the grin on his face and this face of his that resembled none other than... Night wind crept in. Lex tried to figure out the situation here but to do that he'd need to focus. That he _can't_ do. And they said the wall was unbreakable, some kind of high-end military tech that LexCorp knew not of, as if.

"Superman?" Tried he. His despair must have been detected. The creature moved, flew to be specific, closer at torturous low speed. 

Voice echoing the same being Lex had in mind, Creature uttered, " _Lord_ Superman to you."

Lex was still processing, as he was approached and grabbed by the arm. “Come, “ said the self-appointed lord in a strangely gentle and luring tone, one that hardly synced with his strength down at the fingers. Bruises would soon surface to his skin, Lex could feel them slowly, dully piercing through.

Meanwhile, that was it for his perfect little plan, his mockingly determined soul, and everything between.

 

*

 

Kal didn't travel all this way for this.

He didn’t go down Bruce’s old cellblock to find a suspicious open portal to dive in. He didn’t expect to discover a universe where Luthor lived and tried to kill Superman once and for all. Most certainly he didn’t come to witness himself die. The madness that went around this earth made his head ache. But, amid all its ruins, Luthor wasn’t the only survivor.

Their Batman lived, too.

Kal had followed him here after the battle, and listened as he intimidated the captive. The interrogation didn’t quite go as Kal’d predicted. For one thing, he couldn’t seem to remember when he last heard Bruce talked like this. Ignited with fury. Raptured by grief. He sounded like a desperate man, his threats irrational.

Well at least he sounded like _something_. This Batman reminded him of the years when there weren’t the Justice Lords. That was also when the other Luthor was still alive. He and Bruce then were partners in work, not politics. He and Bruce then spoke.

Now he only spoke to an empty grave.

The resistance, led by Lord Batman, opposing him wasn’t able to steal the world from Kal in the civil war, but was to smuggle their leader’s corpse from him. They tucked the coffin back and covered up afterwards, probably knowing that with one mere glance he’d see— probably to mock.

Kal had the press write about how the remaining of the terrorists held no respect towards the repented fallen hero. Lois sneered at how the mighty lord was obliged to address this issue in no other way and now left with a shut mouth _and_ , if she may, an ever so stiffened heart.

  
_He did’t travel all this way_ so that he could be differed by another human, a Luthor in particular. The young Lex would rather stay, _compared with accepting kind offers from an alien,_ that is. He was truly curious, nothing like his doppelgänger. It was no use trying to link dots, even the ones that may look similar, yet Kal indulged. He didn’t need supervision to pick up the subtle shivers Lex the curious was struggling to hide. Although terribly shocked, the young man didn’t seem to want the easy way out.

He was so short and slender, uncomfortable with his own head, almost a boy. And yet he fought with his own self to fight Kal. It was nearly amusing. It was a good start.

“Trust me, “ Kal tried not to tease by calling him kid, “you don’t want to go to Arkham."

He was right. Lex lowered his eyes, looking for an alternative. Kal continued upon an impulse, “come, and see if the bat shall come rescuing his newest collectible of nuts."

The boy lit up, thought he’d found a breach. His posture was immediately at ease, as if part of a performance sequence. He said as he made some tiny noise with his lips and tongue, “a-ha, so that was why. If another round is what you want, I suggest that you go straight to the Wayne lake house. Do some superhero landing, things you do. _Romance_ him."

His hands flipped at his words, directing his own little scene. Kal landed on the floor and indulged more. “He had spear made of pure kryptonite. He could live in a house where all glasses gleam green,” he smiled.

“He doesn’t,” Lex wanted to say something else but he bit into his lip.

“Then you don’t know him.”

Lex’s eyebrows twitched as he stared. _His eyes used to be green, didn’t they?_

“You are not Clark Kent,” eventually, he said, half question, half statement.

Kal’s smile deepened, “no, I’m not."

 

*

 

The place was long abandoned, but somebody must have kept it in order. The cells were still functioning. In two of them the hand shackles were disposed of… By heat vision, just like the soldiers back in the ship. Bruce focused on the screen before shifting back to listen for any approaching sounds. 30% completed.

It didn’t take him too long to make sense of the clues. The government wanted to hide certain ones from the public, but eventually they were all in the news. Luthor disappeared from Belle Reve minutes after he’d left him. The same night the Kryptonian ship was broken into. Every single one of the guards were killed, cut in half, burnt. Reports of noise and power failure came in from nearby area.

When he discovered the possibility of the portal, Bruce wished he hadn’t. Once again he had to keep his mouth shut from Alfred until he figured at least something out about it. Alfred would scorn him to death, but this, traveling alone through an almost scientific-fictional-looking light hole to hack into a system possibly on another planet, could be that something.

The dizzy feeling from the trip hadn’t faded. Bruce looked at the number. 89, 90, 91. The whole setting around here seemed vaguely familiar, but it wasn’t until he went back to the cave that he came to realize, it was his own.

Funny feeling, partially physical, haunted him all the way as he drove to the lake house.

Except for the surveillance recording, most files he’d taken proved to be useless. The first few hours of recording were just empty cells, so Bruce let the computer go through the rest in search for any human entry, while he fetched himself a glass of wine for his light head. The beep came in before Bruce even made it back from the kitchen. He sat down in front of the computer and, for a second, almost startled.

The Joker was up there, his face taking up the entire screen.

Bruce rolled the clip and found he’d only been adjusting the camera. He wasn’t wearing any makeup, though. No blood red lipstick, nothing. In addition, the Joker’s face posed in a stiff and delayed manner that Bruce had never seen him did. As he’d done his work and pulled away, Bruce saw two dark spots above his sunken black eyes.

Then there was Lex, situated in the center of the frame, chained to the X-shaped stake. There were two more angles. One from the back, the other from the outside. The Joker then, walking stiffly and delayed, adjusted both. The prisoner hung his head the entire time. Muscles from his arms stretched. That was day one.

For quite some while, there were only Lex and the Joker. The latter, for reasons Bruce couldn’t justify, watched and fed him. At a random point each day, Lex would be loosened and carried away, returning in about 40 minutes. They kept him decent, perhaps the same crew that kept the place.

Lex only attempted communication a couple of days later, when he must have thought he’d understood how it all operated there. Bruce saw on the screen that he whispered to the Joker, while looking directly into the camera. He smirked at Bruce, as though he'd foresaw what was to come.*

Someone with a white cape came. His movement, as Bruce went back and checked, was too fast to be picked up by the other cameras. The man had broad shoulders, thus blocking Lex completely from the lens. Bruce turned to the one from behind. As he clicked, his breath paused.

  
_Identified, Clark Joseph Kent, Superman,_  screamed the computer.

But not exactly the Clark _he knew_. The appearance was the same, passing the facial recognition test at 98% similarity, but that 2% seemed to be the key. This man looked much more sophisticated. Every line of his face carved cold. _I’m tired of these tricks, Luthor,_  his lips read. Though Bruce had no vision of Lex, he could see whatever words he chose to respond with weren’t the right ones. He never chose the right ones not because he couldn’t tell, but because he could. _That_ was his trick.

He let you— invited you to abuse him so you fed yourself with complacency. People look for blind spots. He created them.

And now this Superman was blind.

He commanded that the Joker go and unlock the fetters. _Only the fetters,_  he said gritting his teeth. Through the front camera, Bruce found Lex’s arms tightened against gravity. His fingers twisted together as if in agony. Bruce was still trying to make out the situation, until Lex’s legs were pulled up behind the man’s waist.

Bruce felt the sip of wine he’d stolen tortured his stomach.

The pale man's naked legs, almost witheringly-looking, hung from the other’s elbows, tangled in the cape. Against the white fabric he slipped. He trembled.

 

*

 

When Kal cut open his cuffs, Lex trembled to the floor. His entire body was cramping, those over-strapped wrists must be burning from the heat, yet he crawled ahead. Kal scanned him. The human was practically torn apart, semen and blood trailed down his thighs, and then to the floor.

It was simply not possible for him to get anywhere like this, he must be having quaint ideas again. Kal held his arms and waited, looking down half smiling. Not until the poor soul reached for his boots did he realize that he’d been floating. He hadn’t been touching the ground often, but he would humor himself a bit as he was pulled to it by a shaking hand.

Lex looked up to him with watery eyes while dragging his body upwards. A boy afraid of pain, naturally. He landed on his spread knees, soaked in sweat and tears, dripping. His clumsy fingers fought their way under the garment for Kal’s cock.

“I see that wasn’t enough for you.” Kal sneered. The boy didn’t take the chance to retort or ridicule like he would have. Rather, he was lost inside his own mind. He was still crying, choking, yet his eyes dilated.

He licked around Kal with an eager tongue. _Blood of my blood_  was what Kal thought he’d said, but then he wasn’t listening, for Lex soon wrapped his chapped lips around his cock. Without further teasing, Lex swallowed him. In great hast, he kept taking in even after he could no more, holding with his hands what he couldn’t have for now. Kal could see clearly how the head of his cock pressed his throat open, and that he was barely breathing. For a moment Kal considered pulling out. But the sensation brought to him was beyond considerable, and the young Luthor was psychotically stubborn in his insistence.

He was like _the other Alexander_ after all.

If he wished to be torn, Kal decided, not without mercy, that he shall have it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little detour taken for the Joker, not necessarily relevant to the previous chapter.

"Give me one reason why I won't just lobotomize you like that other clown in my world." Kal scanned this green-haired freak. He somehow wasn't quite that identical to the one Kal referred to, the one serving front desk at Arkham. This Joker, somehow, freaked him out a little. Maybe as Lord Superman he had gotten too comfortable without psychopaths running around all day, he'd have to remember that. Always be on alert, Kal, always.  
"To be honest I think of none." Joker smiled, and Kal waited for his punch line, "but my batsy probably has plenty."  
His tease was proven more shocking than he'd expect. Kal stood. Another batman. Alive.  
"Speaking of whom," the clown looked the lord in the eye, only with joy he continued, "where's yours?"  
Kal almost believed he knew what happened, if that wasn't simply impossible. Joker had no might except for his madness, none that Kal could recall.  
He couldn't have known about Bruce.  
Kal grabbed him by the hair. There were chemicals, but nothing more than tickling to the skin of steel. He sentenced the Jester to come with him and see if this batsy he was talking about were to go through all the trouble to save a scum like him.  
Joker seemed not too hot about his fate, nor was he affected, "he will," he said with his arms stretched like he was to take a bow.  
"He's a Batman after all."

**Author's Note:**

> *This detail was inspired by @thekingdombythesea


End file.
